My Mary

I hesitate to write this post because sometimes when you focus a post on one particular friend then your other friends (and sisters) feel like maybe they aren't as important to you.  Well...be a little more secure in my love for you, okay?!

Last year some time I noticed that my long-time friend, Mahri, had a friend on facebook who had no hair.  I wrote to Mahri and asked, "Do you have TWO beautiful, bald friends???"  And then of course I couldn't even wait for an answer before I had to "friend" this girl.  Her name was Mary Hill.  She has alopecia like me.  I had no idea at the time that alopecia is pretty much the least important of our similarities.  We started talking and then we were in contact every day or more.  Its a pretty great love story.  A soul-sister love story.  Some of our differences are that Mary is ten years younger than I and is single.  She is very much who I was about 10 years ago.  Interesting.  Anyway, I feel so blessed that the Lord led me to this girl of mine.  When we first met she was living in Baltimore but came to Utah to visit in December.  I knew that she had to know Haiti because, well, we're soul-sisters.  We planned to go to Haiti at the beginning of February, then the "goudou-goudou" happened.  Our trip was put on hold but we finally went together last week.  Haiti brings out the true person in each of us.  Mary laughed and said she was nervous about the person she would find herself to be in Haiti.  I can tell you, that I already knew the real Mary, but the REAL real Mary who came out in Haiti is AMAZING. Here are a few photos.

On the way...

Shortly after arrival.  Kind of warm in Haiti???

This woman has lost her grown children, her daughter most recently in the quake, leaving her to care for 3 grandchildren.  Her name is Amelia.  When I told her that Mary was Mary AMELIA Hill, our sweet "mama" got so excited.  She went on and on to me in Kreyol and I couldn't understand much so finally one of our faithful interpreters told us that she felt like Mary and I were her daughters.  She was obviously mourning the loss of her grown children and we were happy to fill that void for a few days.

Just playing and being silly, playing with, and loving on "all de orphans in de whole world" (name that quote).

We all fell in love with Woodley (Amelia's grandson), but he was Mary's special guy, that's for sure.

This is one of my favorite pictures.

Us reading our Ensigns in our matching Kaftans (yeah, everybody was jealous of those bad boys) and playing in the rain. 

On the way home...with a friend we picked up along the way.

I'm so lucky to have Mary in my life. 

Now, for those of you feeling a little sad right now, remember that there is room enough in my heart for all of you.  And if you shave your head for me then I will do a special post about you (sorry, Sarah, you don't count...it was mostly for Mary, although now you love me just as much, right? :)

Playing in the Mango Tree (Naider)

The guest house where we stayed (New Life Children's Home) had a big, GORGEOUS, mango tree in the yard with little wooden benches all around the perimeter.  It was a lovely gathering place for different activities and for just relaxing.  I met my Naider (pronounced to me as "NY-day", that spelling is my best guess of the actual spelling) under the tree.  Naider is about 10 years old and newly orphaned from the quake.  He had some serious injuries and Medishare was taking care of him and brought him to the place we were staying.  He lived in the church and his future is unknown.  There is an orphanage on the property but not sure if he's going to be accepted to stay there or not.  Anyway, I fell in love with Naider right away.  It didn't hurt that shortly after meeting him, I left for a second and upon my return I said, "Bonjou, timoun mwen." (Hello my child) and with out skipping a beat he responded, "Bonjou, mama mwen." (Hello my mama).  When I showed him some photos of my children at home, he reminded me that HE was also my child.

Whenever he saw me, he'd give me hugs and he often sat on my lap or just next to me.  He spent time with all of the volunteers and loved them all, but I felt a special connection to him.

I might apologize for all of the photos but I don't think I will.  How can you not love them?  How can you not love Naider's huge smile when he is able to play and let the heavy burdens he carries fall from his shoulders for a little while?

I noticed that some of the mangoes were reserved until ripe.

Stevenson was another orphaned boy.  I never got his story.  He loves posing for the camera.  Sometimes he and Naider were friends.  Sometimes not so much.

Naider wanted to see the photos and seemed unhappy that one of his eyes looks smaller than the other (it is quite puffy--I don't know if it is a lingering injury from the quake or if it has always been that way or what).  He then tried to make his eye bigger.  It made me sad.  In my terrible kreyol I tried my best to tell him I thought he was handsome just the way he was.

Naider was very impressed with my mad play-doh skills and the accessories I made for him.

The night before we left, Naider held my hand as we walked over to the orphanage for their nightly devotional.  He sat next to me with my left arm around him (while little Jeremy fell asleep on my lap with my right arm).  He didn't know the songs like the other orphans but he tried and when it was time to pray, he bowed his head and pushed his fingers deep into his eyes as if really concentrating.

The next morning we had to leave at 6:30am to get to the airport.  Naider was there as we loaded our bags into the truck.  I tried to give him a hug but he pulled away.  My kreyol had improved a bit through the week so I asked him to give me a hug.  He shook his head no.  I asked him why not.  He wouldn't talk and kept his head down.  I tried to get him to look at me but he wouldn't.  I asked, "Are you sad?"  He nodded his head vigorously.  I told him that I was sorry and I tried to hug him again but he still wouldn't respond.  I had not cried once the entire trip but suddenly my eyes welled with tears.  I held him tight and kissed him.  "I'm sad too,"  I said.  "I love you, Naider."

Then I got in the truck and as we drove off, the wave of emotion flooded over me and I couldn't breathe well, I was crying so hard.  I was crying for Naider because of what he'd been through and for his future and because I didn't know if I'd ever see him again.  Then I cried for all of the children I had hugged and kissed and loved that week.

Pascary (Harry's two kids had come with him to take us to the airport so he could then be dropped off at school) climbed up into the front seat, onto my lap, and set his head on my chest and hugged me as we drove along..  I kissed his head as my tears slowly stopped.  I took some deep breaths and recommitted to be strong and to do whatever it is the Lord will allow me to do for Him for His children in Haiti.

Mwen Renmen Haiti

I love Haiti.  For nearly this whole trip, despite seeing horror and sadness and all kinds of things that can rip your heart into a million pieces, I felt more love and more peace than I've ever felt for Haiti.  I can't explain it.  The things that shocked me before were no longer shocking.  I don't think I've become hardened.  It was just a sense that I was right where I belonged.

One wonderful thing about this trip is that I had my new camera AND my sister's friend (and now my friend) let me borrow one of her lenses.  I was loving it.  Took over 800 pictures.  Of course there are many stories to tell and events to record for my journal, but for now, here is just a little sampling of my trip.